A Most Precious Child
by SharKohen
Summary: Every child is precious and Enrique Nuñez is no exception. As he gets older, however, Enrique is starting to learn that his life – at least, as he knows it - had come at great cost and the story behind it is a burden his sister secretly bears. A bittersweet one-shot epilogue for a possible, though unlikely, outcome for the coming Season 2.


**Summary: Every child is precious and Enrique Nuñez is no exception. As he gets older, however, Enrique is starting to learn that his life – at least, as he knows it -had come at great cost and the story behind it is a burden his sister secretly bears. A bittersweet one-shot epilogue for a possible, though unlikely, outcome for the coming Season 2.**

 **~~~0~~~**

There was a once upon time that the successful birth of child was said to be a miracle. The chances of survival in an era that didn't understand hygiene practices and infection control were incredibly small. For a baby – a fragile, tiny thing – to live through the entire ordeal was undoubtedly a thing that could only be determined by the fates.

In modern times in modern places like Arcadia, the fears of child-birth had dwindled somewhat. Yes, it was still painful, and yes, it was still nine months of horrible swings of hormones, backaches and gastrointestinal discomfort, but the chances of survival had improved drastically. A child, then, such as Enrique Nuñez should not have been coddled and cooed over as much as he was, but he was an adorable child, his parents were loving parents, and his sister was way too excited to have younger sibling, so that was that then.

When Enrique reached his delightful toddler years, it was discovered that he had a rather strong pair of leg. He was very fond of using them to run, hop, jump and skip, and he would do all these in the woods just a run from his home. The forest had a dark, gloomy vibe to it, but he wasn't afraid of the chasing shadows or the smells of rotting bark. It brought to mind his first memories when he was much younger, when the world was dim and full of ugly, twisted faces. These would have scared any other child, but Enrique had come to term with it, for this dim-lit world did no harm, nor did the ugly faces. The world away from daylight was one that he found himself repeatedly drawn to, no matter how many times his sister had to hunt him down and drag him back to the safety of their house.

When he entered elementary school, Enrique discovered that he loved stories, especially those about the fantastic and unnatural. He loved the idea of hidden worlds, where magic creatures beyond human imagination lived right in their midst. He would sometimes stare at his classmates, wondering if he or she was going to suddenly turn into a dragon, or a dinosaur, or some four-eyed monster with claws and fangs.

Sometimes, he liked to pretend he was a monster himself – a big, scary, powerful beast that growled all the time, ate people for fun and never took a bath (Claire never appreciated that aspect of his play-acting, commenting acridly on his pungency). Every Halloween, he had the time of his life. He would spend ages painting his cardboard boxes green and rolling up newspaper to make himself a steady pair of horns. Spools of thread and tape later, he would present himself as the mighty _Gowrow_ and would spend a good part of the afternoon gnawing on the seat cushions of the living room sofa until Claire yanked him off and told him to behave.

Claire. Well, what did he really think of Claire? As far as older sisters went, he thought that she could do much better. She was preachy and bossy, and she didn't like playing with him as much as he wanted to. Of course, she was in college now, and college was supposed to be busy, flooded with homework and social commitments and goodness knows what else. There were weeks where he didn't get to see her at all. That made lolling around at home even worse and he found himself spending his afternoons walking around the forest, or skateboarding by the drain under the town bridge. If she had known about those, he would get an earful from her about how he could get hurt, or how he could get kidnapped, and all that kind of nonsense. The way she was with him, you'd think that she was his mum rather than just his elder sister.

That said, there were also the days where Claire would chuck her homework aside and teach him how to make swords out of Styrofoam. There were also days where that he and Claire would spend the afternoon making mountains upon mountains of guacamole until they had too much leftovers and had to spend the evening giving the rest of it away. And then there were the days where Claire would envelope him with her arms, ruffle his hair and place a big fat kiss on his cheek. He would rub the kiss off with the back of his hand, of course, because he was grown-up like that and he wasn't at the age where he wouldn't take kisses anymore. Claire would just laugh and hug him tighter, and they would continue watching the latest sword and sorcery serial on cable till bedtime.

And then she would disappear for another week because of college and he was left to his own devices again. Sometimes, when his parents were too busy to entertain him, Enrique liked to pretend that, perhaps, instead of being an unholy monster from the deepest unknown, he had a twin, and that twin would play games with him and hang out with him whenever he wanted. His imaginary twin would always be there for him in ways that Claire couldn't, and they would share their deepest secrets, like talk about the pretty girls in class and which teachers they would flush down the toilet bowl if they could. The appeal of destructive, powerful creatures was exchanged for the notion of a companion – a friend.

When he reached the age of eleven and was exposed to the horror that was geometry, he met his actual twin.

Well, sort-of-actual-twin.

So he came home one day from school, threw his school bag by the door and called for his mum, only to find that she had gone to work. His father's car was not in the garage, so he knew he wasn't back yet. Claire was working now, and her job required her to stay in neighbouring town most of the time. That would mean that no one was supposed to be home. In that case, the figure at the refrigerator door, shuffling the things and smacking his lips, could only be an intruder.

A wiser boy would have called the police immediately, but Enrique had watched back-on-back karate movies and he was pretty sure he had picked up a few moves (Claire still thought that if he really wanted to learn martial arts, he should do it properly by attending classes as she had before). Armed with nothing but his bare fists, the young blonde lad threw himself forward, poised to strike, only for the figure to whip around and face him. The intruder held a cup of jello between his teeth, a tub of ice-cream hugged to his chest and last night's roast chicken in his grip.

He also was an exact mirror-image of Enrique.

The blonde boy screamed, and despite what he claimed later on, he fainted.

When he woke up, he found his sister hovering anxiously over him, having rushed down all the way from the other town to see him. The freaky Enrique clone was also sitting at his table, pilfering through his belongings and making a snarky remarks.

No, not clone. _Changeling._

"You shouldn't have dropped in like that," he heard Claire chide his creepy double. "What if my parents came home?"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to pop by," he heard a scratchy, raspy voice emerge from his double's throat – boy, was that a weird experience watching another voice come out of a body so like his own. "We haven't exactly seen each other for ten years, so pardon me if I didn't get the memo that you've moved out."

"You could have called first." Claire's brows furrowed and her arms akimbo, a pose she often adopted when she was scolding himself. Enrique never thought that he would see her use on someone else.

His double groaned while pulling a hand down his face – his face! It was exactly the same as his! "So sue me for wanting it to be a surprise."

Explanation were in order, of course, and so they dragged him down for a snack Between the freaky clone – _changeling_ , sorry – and his sister, bits of pieces came out.

"When you were a baby, you were kidnapped-"

"-and I took your place. Looked just like you, so your parents and sissy here-" jabbed a finger at Claire "-didn't even know."

"You were taken to a place called the Darklands-"

"-gross, desolate, ghastly place." The fake Enrique shuddered. "Trust me, fam, don't put that on your vacation list."

"Fam?" Enrique had puzzlement written all over his face.

"Familiar," explained NotEnrique, tossing a guacomole-dipped tortilla chip into his mouth. He scrunched up his nose and turned to his sister. "You need to add more onions to this batch, sis. You're losing your touch."

Claire glowered at him, but Enrique could tell that she wasn't really that mad. In fact, he was starting feel a little uncomfortable at how comfortable his sister was with this freakish stranger that happened to look like him. "So, anyway,-" she turned to him, ignoring how NotEnrique stuffed a handful of chips in his mouth before picking up the guacomole bowl and proceeded to pour its contents down his throat, "-not long after that, you were rescued."

"By who?" he asked. "The police?"

Claire winced. "Well, not exactly."

"Then who? You?"

His sister fiddled uneasily with her the hem of her stiff black outer coat. It was a uniform that she had come to wear quite often, since it was required of her job. Enrique had to admit the first time that he had seen her the formal business attire he had been almost horrified. Claire looked so prim, so neat, so … _grown-up_. She didn't look like the girl who play death metal in their living room and strum an imaginary guitar anymore. His fear of losing his sister however had been swiftly quelled when she had scooped him up for an embrace and played Battle Ninja 300 with him through the night.

However, right now, with how she was chewing on her lip and with this abominable copy of himself gorging his eyes out, the suppressed terrors were threatening to overwhelm the young boy once again.

Claire then let out a long sigh, then nudge the copy in the ribs. The double made an indignant noise, obviously displeased with how she had interrupted his snack time. Dropping the bowl on the table, he glared at her, but Claire ignored it, merely saying, "Show him."

"Show him?" NotEnrique repeated, shooting a sceptical look at the original Enrique. "You say how he reacted when he saw me in this form. If I show him, he might get a heart attack."

"Hey!" Enrique was not pleased. "I'm eleven, alright? I'm old enough. I can take it. I can take it, right, Claire?" He glanced at his sister expectantly.

Claire just looped the stray lock of her hair back behind her ear without saying anything.

"Well, don't say that I didn't warn ya," NotEnrique said, siting himself up straight and cracking his knuckles.

A burning bright blue light suddenly exploded around the double and Enrique found himself shading his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw a green-skinned figure sitting next to Claire. He was still his height and build, but his eyes had become much larger, with a red on yellow tinge that gave him a reptilian flair. His nose had become flat and long, and his head flatter and broader. His mouth had become longer, with protruding incisors sticking out of the closed lips. His fingers had become thicker and his palms rounder, and Enrique was horrified to see the scales running up the side of his arms. He gawked as the fellow, who had looked just like him a second ago, now appeared to be an absolute monster.

"Not a monster, Enrique." His sister gently corrected him. " _Changeling_."

What on Earth was going on?

More information started pouring in. Changelings weren't the only ones – oh, no. They were a type of Troll, and Trolls were apparently a race of underground beings who were as sophisticated as humans, just that they looked like, well, monsters and they couldn't tolerate sunlight. Oh, apparently there were good trolls and bad trolls, and the bad trolls were the ones trapped in an ugly, unpleasant place called the Darklands and had kidnapped him all those years ago - surprise!

His head was spinning in circles, so Claire poured him a glass of fruit juice and made him drink it down before they continued explaining the rest to him.

"They kidnapped you so that he-" thumbing at NotEnrique "-could take your place. He was supposed to work as a spy for them in the human to prepare for Gunmar's – that's the ruler of the bad guys – return to our world."

"Supposed to be. Have since switched sides and retired," the hideous creature put in, deciding to rummage the fridge for more edibles. Finding a carton of eggs, he opened up the flap and poured in all six of them into his giant jaws, crunching the shells between his teeth and licking up the drips with his long tongue. Enrique cringed in disgust. NotEnrique however, hummed in approving delight as he swallowed it all down. "Ever since you've been brought back, I decided to go on a world tour. You know, -" he made a shrugging motion with his scaly shoulders in way that was jarringly human-like "-see in the sights, live the life, trying different kinds of socks -"

"Socks?" Enrique tried to imagined the green-skinned beast going to clothes shops in different countries to try on socks of all kinds – stripped, polka-dotted, checkered and so on.

"Yep. The ones in Japan are really unique." NotEnrique proceeded to gobble down the cardboard carton itself, smacking his lips in satisfaction. "Got a nice fruity flavour about them."

The blonde boy stared on blankly, then shook his head, turning to his sister. "So you haven't answered – who brought me back from the Dark-place-thing?"

His sister didn't look at him, staring down at the table and tracing imaginary circles with her finger. Even the greedy beast by her side seemed to quietened down, closing the fridge door.

He was about to repeat the question when Claire told him, "Grab your coat. I need to show you something."

When they departed the house, the sun was about to set. Mum had called in to say that she was going to be slightly late because she was picking up dinner and Dad had called in to say he was going to be a slightly later because he was picking up Mum. That meant that they had about half-an-hour before they came back. Claire drove them to save time – them, because NotEnrique had decided to tag along. Enrique had tried to level glares at him to tell him that he wasn't welcome, but the changeling – _urgh, why did they have to exis_ t – just smirked at him and cackled.

The place that Claire took them to wasn't that far, actually, so it wasn't long before they were out of the car and on their feet. She took them past the houses and fences, to a deserted hill that lay far out of sight from the road. As they climbed higher and higher, Enrique noted that there was a small structure erected at the top of the hill. When they drew nearer, Enrique realised that it was tombstone.

"Here's someone you should meet," Claire said softly to him, stepping aside so that he could stand right in front of it. On the stone, it read, _'James Lake, Junior. 2000-2016. Loving Son, Trusted Friend.'_

Enrique looked at the stone where fresh-flowers had been lain, then up to his sister. NotEnrique had taken a backseat on the event, choosing to loaf around in the shade of the trees while Claire rubbed her elbows and struggled to begin, "Well, Jim – how can I explain Jim?"

Jim was a Trollhunter. Apparently, that didn't mean that he hunted trolls for a living. As a matter of fact, his job had wasn't actually to do with hunting, though there was an aspect of it occasionally. He was supposed to a protector of both trolls and humans alike, with his job mostly focused on ensuring that the work of the bad trolls didn't threaten the peace of human and troll worlds here on Earth. Oh, and he was just a kid when he was assigned. The first human ever to be a Trollhunter.

"He promised me that he would bring you back, and he did," Claire said with a sad smile, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. "He was a true hero."

"What happened to him?" Enrique asked, turning away from her to study the tombstone. The numbers engraved there stuck out at him – sixteen. Jim had been this …Trollhunter thing when he was till sixteen. That was just five years from where he was now. From the way Claire talked about this job, it sounded hard.

His sister told that it might take a while to explain, so both of them sat down on the grass, Claire not caring that her work pants were going to need a thorough washing. She paused a moment, before starting, "We were supposed to go into the Darkland together."

She told to him the Trollhunters – the plural version apparently referring to the heroic squad that they formed rather than just Jim himself. She told him about Toby, who was Jim's best friend and followed him through thick and thin. She told him about Blinky, who was a smart, fast-talking troll who somehow ended up as Jim's surrogate father figure. She told him about Aaarrrgghh, who used to be a general in the Gunmar's army but swore it off to be a pacifist, yet never hesitated to strike if only to protect his friends. She told him about Draal, son of the previous Trollhunter, who had once despised Jim but eventually became one of his fiercest defenders, devoting himself to bettering his fighting skills and even training them. She smiled when he asked if she was part of the Trollhunters and admitted that she did have fond memories of those days.

Those days that ended when Jim decided to enter the Darklands on his own.

The death of Aaarrrgghh had shaken him badly, and his sister had suspected that he was not entirely in the right mind when he had chosen deliberately to lock them out. Jim was the one who had banded them together, and with him gone, they fell apart.

At first, some of them did try. Blinky poured through books, Draal tried to reach out to his dead father, Toby begun journeying across the world, questioning magical beings far and wide for solutions. Even she had scoured over libraries above ground, translating books in her head, trying to see if there were human records of anything – literally anything – that could help them.

They couldn't find anything.

But one day, nearly two months of Jim had gone into the Darklands, something had happened. The Fetch that they had – that was, artefacts that acted as little portals to the Darklands – had started acting up. Before they knew it, it was glowing blue and Enrique had been slotted right through it. It had been one of the happiest days in her life - to have her little baby brother finally restored to her and to also know that Jim was still alive.

After that incident, all of them had huddled anxiously around the Fetch, waiting. They had hoped that he would send a note over, so that they could know how he was doing and how they could help. They had thought that he might send over other children who had been stolen from their cribs, so that they might be able to return them to their rightful homes. But there was nothing at all. By the time they allowed Toby to stick his head into the portal as a last resort, he reported disappointedly that he saw nothing but miserable blackness – no sign of Jim anywhere.

Months went by, and then years. It was the year that she and Toby graduated from high school that the Trollhunters fell apart. Blinky had become weary of it all and had vanished off to goodness knows where. Draal had wanted to carry on, but had no idea on how to move forward and thus himself became resigned. Toby was the only one of them who never lost hope. His grandmother had passed on during senior year, so with nothing to lose and no one else in the world, he decided to journey delved underground to continue his search for a solution.

He had expected her to follow him, but she couldn't. She had a younger brother to look after and parents who needed her. Beyond that, there were other things in life that she wanted, like a thorough education, a stable career and a family of her own someday. Between a tiny fraction of a possibility of finding a probably-dead childhood sweetheart in a foreboding wasteland and fulfilling her responsibilities as the elder child in a family, going to college and living a normal life, the choice was quite obvious. Toby had been disappointed and had expressed such in no uncertain terms. After he had departed, she had tried to contact him. He had never replied.

"So…is he really dead?"

They didn't know. With no way to communicate with him or a safe way to enter the Darklands, they could never find out for sure. A new Trollhunter had yet to be appointed, so that could mean that he was still alive. However, it was also possible that Gunmar had gotten hold of the amulet and was merely biding his time to return to their world. It could also be that Jim had perished, but the amulet was lost in the labyrinth of the Darklands and was unable to return their world to choose a new Trollhunter. No one could tell.

The ordinary world had reacted to his disappearance in different ways. Some people said that he had drowned in the drain under the city bridge during the monsoon season, though no body had been found there. Some people said that he had run away after getting involved in crime syndicates and offending some bosses.

His mother had never believed those rumours. No, it was her firm belief that Jim was a good, sensible boy, and he would never get into this kind of trouble. She instead insisted that he had been murdered and his body had been hidden away somewhere. Her prime suspect for the crime was a teacher that Jim had mentioned before in school, though she could never quite place the face or name of this 'teacher', so no one could be sure of who she was talking about.

"Why didn't you guys tell her the truth?"

Claire gazed earnestly in return. "Would that have made things any better?"

Enrique had to admit he didn't know the answer to that.

His sister drove them home after that. Well, they did stop at the train station to drop NotEnrique off first. According to the changeling, he was going to continue on his travels around the world. As they drove away from the station, Enrique was extremely disturbed to watch the changeling morph back into his human form – _a form that he had stolen_ , he thought darkly – while punching his fist in the air and crowing, "La Vegas, here I come!" Well, good luck with trying to get into a casino while looking like someone who hasn't lost all their baby teeth yet.

Their parents were obviously surprised to find that Claire was in town, but they were too delighted to question more deeply in the reason for her visit. They brought out the leftovers – the one that hadn't disappeared down NotEnrique's stomach at least – and it was hearty dinner that had everyone laughing long after the last bite was swallowed.

Sitting around the table with his whole family, the young blonde boy found himself casting glances at his elder sister from time to time. Here, she was the starry-eyed, successful banker daughter who still treasured time with her family. But Enrique wondered if that there was a part of her that wanted to return that magical world beyond their own - the world of trolls and monsters, of spells and curses, of heroes and villains. He wondered if there was a part of her that longed to join her friend Toby on his search, now that she was older and no longer dependant on their parents. He wondered where Jim was now, and whether he had ever regretted going into the Darklands to fulfil a promise to a girl who hadn't loved him enough to keep looking for him.

After dinner, they had to say their goodbyes. Claire had to go back to work tomorrow and the drive back to her new home would be quite a while. Hugs and kisses were exchanged at the door, but Enrique found himself following her all the way to her car. As she pulled door open, he spoke up, "Claire?"

"Yeah, _manito?_ " She paused, waiting to hear what he had to say.

He wrung his hands uncertainly behind his back, not quite daring to look at her in the eye. "If you had to choose between having me back or having Jim back, who would you pick?"

She tilted his chin up so that he would look at her in the eyes. "You, of course. You're my brother – _mi manito._ Nothing changes that. Honestly though, -" he could see the pain in her gaze "-it's a decision that I would much rather not make." She saw the concern in his face and instantly, a smile stretch across her face. "Not worry about it, Enrique. Just be a good boy and listen to Mum and Dad, okay?"

He sniffed scornfully and rolled his eyes. That made her laugh before she planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Have fun, okay, little brother?" she told him as she stepped into her Porche. "Live life to the fullest and all that crazy kid stuff. YOLO, you know."

Enrique blinked at her.

"It's a thing they used to say when I was a kid. Means _'you only live once'_ ," his sister explained before rolling up the window. She blew him a final kiss, which he pulled face at, and then the car was gone.

Somehow, that night, when he had gone up to his bedroom and tried to do his geometry homework, he found the words ringing in his head - _'You only live once'_. His mind flashed to NotEnrique, with his toothy smile and his disgusting eating habits. He then thought about the other children stuck in the Darklands, with their changeling counterparts still living out their lives pretending to be them. Those children – they never got to live at all.

He had been so close to being one of them. He was lucky to have a sister that wanted him back badly enough. He was lucky to have a changeling counterpart who didn't care for reinstating Gunmar's rule in their world. He was lucky that Jim Lake Jr. had made a promise and kept it.

His life was incredibly precious. It had to be, if it had been bought at such a cost. If he wanted to honour the memory of his rescuer, wherever he was, he should live out the best life that he could, like Claire said. He should study hard, play hard, do everything he wanted to do and follow his dreams.

All the same, Enrique's mind kept drifting to Jim alone in the Darklands. He worried over the millions of children trapped in the darkness, never being to live their own lives for themselves. He pondered over the world of magic, prophecy and adventure, wondering what it would be like if he could experience it for himself.

When his gaze returned to his homework, he realized that something had appeared unexpectedly on his table. It wasn't his, and he certainly didn't remember picking it up anywhere. He took the circular, compass-like object lying in his hand, feeling the weight of the metal upon his palm as he studied the gears and needles.

There was something carved around the rim of it, so Enrique read it out, _"For the Glory of Merlin, Daylight is Mine to Command…"_

~~~0~~~

 **Hope you enjoyed that. I'm not planning on extending this. It's just an idea I considered, but I doubt Gulliermo del Toro would take this route. It would effectively kill of the rest of Season 2.**

 **I'm guessing that there's a 15 year gap between Enrique and Claire, so that's why she'll probably be working by the time he's eleven. As for NotEnrique, my headcanon is that kidnapped human familiars still grow normally (meaning that in the Darklands, somewhere, Strickler's familiar is a full-grown forty-ought unconscious dude), and their changeling counterparts merely imitate their skeletal structures (that would explain why NotEnrique is so small while Nomura and Stricker are roughly adult height). So in here, NotEnrique would have grown in size to be match an eleven-year old Enrique.**

 **What actually happened to Jim? Is he really dead? Well, that's for you decide.**

 **Cheers. Reviews would be nice.**


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